I'll never fall again
by Sergent Mathilde
Summary: If you don't like girl kissing and lesbian stories, you shouldn't even BE here. Papi/Shane pairing. That's what they had said the fisrt time they'd met : I'll never fall. But eventually, they fell. Over, over, and over again.
1. Prologue

**Hey folks! Me again. So I'm posting this new story. I am NOT english, I remind you that, so it's possible that I make a few mistakes and it would be very kind of you to tell me what are those, if you have some time. This very story is about The L Word -and if you're an homophobic -which would be very surprising since we are in an homosexual fandom- you better get outta here soon, because our ladies will probably kiss, touch and fuck more than once. After all, that's Shane and Papi we're talking about! Oh, about that, a few words of explanation : I KNOW that the pairing is pretty weird, but when the season four's opening, I imediately wondered when they were gonna at least fuck, maybe more. And it was the same thing when they started this wonderful love/hate relationship. But the screewriters must have been dumb enough not to see the alchemy between those two, and they missed what sure would've been an amazing storyline. I couldn't stand the waste, so I decided to reunite our two stars in the same life -and bed-. The story is a little UA : Bette and Tina aren't together anymore -I can't stand this couple, I prefered Jodi-, Helena and Dusty ARE together -I liked Dusty-, Alice is alone -but not for long, don't worry- and Tasha is a bartender at Papi's nightclub. Papi owns a famous gay latino nightclub, and Shane is a famous Casanova photographer. I think that's it. I won't post very often, unfortunately. I only have a few chapters already written and I have other stories ongoing. Plus, this one takes me a lot of my time and imagination. Hope you'll enjoy it! (The title refers to both Papi and Shane's way to see life : never to fall.)**

**Disclaimer : Not mine. Seriously, if I owned them, I wouldn't be there. I would be ... OK, let's shut up, you may be shocked. **

**Pairing : If you didn't understand, it's Papi and Shane. And yes, they are TOGETHER. _Very_ together. **

**Rating : K+ (If you don't like girl kissing and fucking, you may want to close this.)**

**I'll never fall again**

_Prologue_

There are some things you need to know about Shane McCutcheon.

She has this strange power on everyone that's just so attracting. It doesn't come from her clothes, or make-up or anything materialistic like that; it's all of her, the way she moves, the way she talks, it's everything about her.

That she doesn't stay on the morning after sex: the only memories she keeps about the night is this messy hair and after-fuck look.

She's always drinking beer, smoking anything that can be smoked and sometimes she's doing drugs. She's a bad girl and all of this gives her that hot, husky voice and musky scent.

She doesn't say "I love you." It's her worst fear, allowing someone to get close in her life, into her heart. She'll **never** let that happen.

She doesn't like drama; but women are drama, lesbos are drama, that's why she's always getting into trouble.

She cares so much about friendship but she's always messing up somewhere along the way.

She's a heartbreaker - a player. The first time you see her, you fall for her. She's everybody's type. But then she breaks your heart, and that's it. You just have to get over it. She doesn't care.

She dresses like she's some kind of androgynous underground rocker, that's so damn sexy you can't help but to fall in love with her.

She never tells you anything about her life. She'll seduce you, kiss you, breathe you in. She'll make you moan, groan and scream in passion, she'll fuck you, and then Bye-bye Birdie. It's like you don't know her anymore. But don't mind her. That's just what she does.

I may have told you all that, but you'll never know Shane McCutcheon. She's a mystery.


	2. LA downtown

**N/A : Me again folks! You won't get rid of me so easily, I'm afraid. So! First chapter, hope you'll enjoy, where you can see we have a little "lady action", lol. What is more to say? Hope you'll enjoy it, and that you have enjoyed it so far, don't be shy, review to let me know what you think! And, hey, if you're love-phobic and another stupid disease, don't bother!**

**I'll never fall again**

_Chapter 1 – L.A. Downtown_

Alice talked so much about her. It didn't mean much, actually, because Alice was a talker -it was amazing, she could talk for hours and hours- but she had bored her with all these "Oh my God, you're such a Shane", and "You'll see, she's just like you", and other crap like that, so now she really wanted to see who this Shane chick was. She had to be someone pretty special, if she held a galaxy. Not much people could hold a whole _galaxy _on Alice's stupid website (except herself, of course) : it was like performing a perfect wheelie on a bike or drinking three shots of tequila without ending up drunk : nearly impossible. But this _Shane_ did. So they had gone to The Planet -or maybe it wasn't The Planet but another L.A. gay nightclub, whatever- and she had saw Shane. THE Shane.

It was surprising, for sure.

She was nothing.

And Papi hadn't been able to hold the :

-But you're just a skinny little white girl!

So the woman in question had looked at her without the littlest inch of interest, and had said :

-Yeah, I guess I am.

And both of them were wrong.

-

Papi had understood why people were so attracted to Shane just a little after in the night. She was flirting with a black woman in a corner of the club -Assia, maybe- and she had seen Shane be what Shane could be, THE Shane, the dark, grinning, mysterious, musky-scented Shane, the Shane who could have every woman she wanted with a snap of her long translucent fingers. She talked with someone and the second after the woman was smiling, laughing to her jokes, flirting, looking Shane straight in the eyes, with this look that seemed to say "Fuck me here, right now", and then Shane nodded with a smirk to something the girl had said, and it seemed to answer "Okay", and with that they exited the nightclub. Fuck. She was good. Really. She had nothing Papi could really envy her for -not a perfect body, or anything like that- but something in her attitude, her nonchalant moves, her devilish grin, the lust and desire in her eyes, the scent of sex and sensuality floating around her like an aura, the fact that every girl here knew that she was the most unobtainable person they could ever find, all of that made her one of the most gorgeous women in the club. After herself. After Papi. Or maybe the most, but Papi just couldn't accept that. She was the enemy.

-

**One month later.**

Shane was a mess. Really. A big mess. Everyone had told her, looking at her with this face that said "My God, what did you do to look that pathetic?" And it was more that she could stand. She needed to run away. So she had closed the studio, took a jacket and a cigarette, and she had gone out. She had no idea where she was going, and what she was trying to avoid, perhaps family or love or anything she couldn't understand, but she walked in the streets, and it felt good. Good like rain-on-her-cheeks-good. But good. Her pain wasn't less excruciating, and the look in her eyes was still sparkless, but she felt a little peace inside, a smooth nostalgia that suited her perfectly, just like she couldn't stand the violence of anger of her deepest feelings. She walked, and walked, and walked all over again in the city of angels and fake lights, and when the sky turned red and purple, when the sun exploded in the horizon, she entered a club. No matter what it was called, she was already too drunk to remember, no matter who was inside -she didn't know any of them-, the only thing that mattered was the way they looked at her, with the eyes full of desperate desire. A woman -apparently the owner of the club- checked her out with an unreadable face and said mockingly :

-Wow, Shaney, you're such a mess!

Shane waved her arms in the air and angrily replied :

-Stop doing that, all of you! Do you think I don't know that?

She paused to ask :

-How do you know my name?

The woman looked down at her, sniffed the air around her, and said, seeming amused :  
-You're so funny when you're drunk, Vanilla Spice.

She was really beautiful. Caramel-skinned, long curly brown hair, brown-eyed, she oozed hotness and sensuality. Lost in the smoke, a little grin on her perfectly glossy lips, she was amazingly, powerfully, threateningly beautiful. But Shane feared nothing, especially when she was half-drunk and so close from some hell sexy stranger. Or maybe she wasn't a stranger; someway, she seemed strangely familiar... Whatever.

-Can I offer you a drink?

The Latina burst into a raw laugh.

-

-Can I offer you a drink?

-I think you drank enough, sweetheart.

The nickname rolled in the Latina's mouth like if was something sweet, a candy or a moan. Shane blinked at her with a light of lust in the eye.

-Then, can I offer you...something else?

The stranger seemed to consider the proposition and slowly nodded- seeming to find it funny, for some reason Shane couldn't figure out nor remember in her state.

-I guess so.

_Okay, this was going to be a good fuck. _

-By the way, my name is Papi.

Yeah, she was definitely familiar.

-Uh... sorry, but... do I know you?

_Maybe they had fucked? But she would remember, wouldn't she? _

-Don't apologize, Shaney, if you were sober, you would've remembered me. Yeah, you know me. Not very well, but you do.

OK, no fucking. Shane noticed that she was maybe a little arrogant, but what a body! She wasn't very girly, she didn't seem to give a shit about anything, and it was okay with Shane, because she was exactly the same.

-So...?

Shane glanced at her.

-Do you have a bedroom?

-

It was a fight. A battle, a war, call it everything you want, it was a fight for dominance. They both were used to be the one that made the girl moan and groan and say "Oh please, God, fuck, shit, take me, you're so fuckin' good at this" and all the crap that goes with it, the one that was always on the top, the one that made the girl come and then left the sweating bed. But at this point, kissing and caressing each other in the dark room, half-way to the bed, they weren't that one anymore. No Oh-my-God's or Shit's or I love you's in the air, just the shattering sound of their uneven breath and the soft "mush" of the clothes falling on the floor. And the kiss.

The kiss was passionate, wild, raw, deep and sensual like both of them knew how to do it. They knew how to do it. More than any other women, they knew how to dance with each other bodies, how to thrust harder and harder and so badly good that it was almost painful. They were sex goddesses, gold stars, galaxies, players, heart breakers. Fire. They were cold, stone-hearted, fucking arousing fire. The kiss was full of all their pain and need to be loved, all the things they couldn't say out loud but felt in the deepness of their souls. It was a kiss that said "I don't give up on life, I don't give up on love", but it also said "I don't give up protecting myself, so if you wanna reach me you'll have to break the armor, and good luck with that". They didn't want to even try. The thing in that room, that time, was a primitive, necessary, purely sexual fuck. But it didn't make it less intense. However, they both didn't believe in that shit that said that make love and sex don't feel the same. What is the barrier between the two? At what time exactly do you know that you're not fucking anymore? It was a fuck, and it was a gift. It was a cure.

Shane loudly moaned in Papi's ear when the latina started to kiss and suck her bare neck. She took their jackets off and they fell in the floor, in the middle of the room.

-

It was a strange picture, really; two handsome women furiously kissing, standing in the dark, half-naked. It held a sort of strange poetry. It was all about who was going to be the first to make the other come, a competition, a game. They both knew how to turn everything to a game. They lay on the bed in a sort of religious silence that was only broken by groans. They were both splendid; the kind of girl that makes everyone shut up when they come into a room. The kind of girl that drives you crazy and then leaves you crying, the kind of auto destroyer and noncommittal girl. _This_ kind of girl.

Papi's hand slowly slid on Shane's belly. Shane's jaw clenched. No way she was going to lose. Not this game. She caught Papi's wrist and held it on her own abdomen. The latina looked surprised but let her. Shane cupped her face and kissed her deeply; as if she lost herself in the kiss, as if she did this to forget everything, who she was and where she went. Then she started to kiss Papi's caramel breast, sucking and licking her turgid nipples. Papi exhaled a loud moan but didn't say anything. Shane smiled. It gave her kisses this exotic, sensual touch : the slight smile on her lips when she touched her lover's body, the cocky, rebelling, exciting smirk on her lips, melted with sadness and joy. She kissed Papi's hips, the sweet and hot skin of her belly, and then lower, lower, and lower again. The brown-haired woman bit her bottom lip to hold a scream of pleasure. And then it was it. Shane was everywhere, licking, sucking, biting, thrusting harder and harder again, kissing Papi's neck, going down again so the latina could just see her messy-yet-styled black hair between her parted legs and half-open eyes. She was triumphant, and Papi guessed it was the position she used to be in, giving pleasure without letting her partner in her body or her heart. But she wasn't going to let her do it. No way.

Feeling that she was going to come, she stopped Shane and kissed her feverishly, tasting with delight her own scent on her new lover's mouth. Shane grinned against Papi's half-open lips. The latina slid her long brown hand between Shane's hot legs, reaching for her wet center. This time, the woman didn't move away, but her muscles were tensed in expectation. She was so not used to that. To be vulnerable, to not control everything. To be weak and sweating under a hell sexy stranger, ready to be taken, to be fucked. Her. Shane McCuetchon. It was like a fucking first time. Exciting and frightening. New. In her case, forgotten. _Damn. _She stopped thinking when three fingers slid inside her. She arched her back.

_Fuck. Jesus Christ. Damn. God. Shit. _

They came together, without another noise than their shaken breath and raging heartbeats, devastated by the wave of their stormy orgasm.

-

Eva Torres woke up at 3:00 a.m, disturbed by the sweet caress of the wind on her bare skin. She sighed when she saw that Vanilla lay on the other side of the bed, arms wrapped around her own pale body. What had she done? They were supposed to hate each other, and now they shared a wild sex night? Well, in fact _she_ was the one that had established their imaginary competition, but still. Papi was for the easy things. She didn't like all the dramas and relational problems. She lived her life like she wanted, screwing up every fuckable woman that came around, and that was it. As she liked to say, she was free. Completely, totally free, without any boundaries or limits. Why, between all the handsome women she had seen yesterday night, had she chosen Shane? Maybe because she was lost and sad and drunk. Maybe because she had flirted with her with this insolent ease. Maybe because of the greenness of her deep eyes. Maybe because she was really hot in her black suit and undone tie, white shirt without bras. _"She never wears bras."_ Wasn't that something Alice had told her? And she had thought it's strange, who doesn't wear bras, maybe she's a butch or something, and she had been more disgusted if it was possible. Now she was just intrigued, because it was a part of her nonchalant sexiness, more intrigued than she wouldn't ever admit to herself.

She dressed up quickly, threw a last glance at the asleep figure, and left the silent room.

-

Shane opened an eye. _Time to go._ It was like an alarm clock in her mind. Never sleep in another bed after 4. She reached her cell phone in her suit's pocket and looked at the hour. _Shit._ 4:30. She hoped Papi wouldn't be one of those sticky women, and ... Wait. Papi? She had slept with Papi? Papi, the irritating, arrogant -still gorgeous- annoying Papi? The galaxy Papi? The one-hundred-and-I-don't-know-how-much-more conquests Papi? Funny. She just hoped Alice wouldn't be hurt. After all, maybe she was interested in her. Well, let's pray she wasn't! Alice was like her best friend. Kind of. Whatever. She carefully stood up and found out that the bed was empty. Good. Papi was exactly like her, she could smell it in the way that they had fucked, in the way she had ran away this morning, in her moves and her words. And it was okay. They had had a fantastic sex night, and now it was over. No regrets, no doubts, just the warm memory of the night and a flowery scent in her hair.

She stepped out the room, leaving the undone bed cold in the dark.

-

But they weren't done. Not yet.

To Be Continued.


	3. Black & White memories

**N/A : SO! I finally came to terms with f*****g ! I'm damn glad, if you knew! Anyways. This is the third chapter of this story, hope you'll like it. Sum up? Papi & Shane do what they do the best, Alice peeks her pretty little nose in the story ... all normal stuff! Feedback, folks! **

**I'll never fall again**

_Chapter 2 – Black and white memories_

_Click. _Shane thanked_ the_ model and put the camera on the table. She silently watched the girl -Sandra, the model- take her coat, her money, her cigarette. She wasn't really beautiful -Shane never chose beautiful people to photograph-, but she had this kind of quiet, destroyed beauty : silk-like skin, half-closed eyes, as if she were perpetually lost between sleep and real life, wandering in a parallel world.

The weather was rainy outside, and she asked Shane :

-Can I stay 'til the rain stops?

The photographer simply shrugged. Sandra opened her handbag, took a lighter and lit herself a cigarette.

-Want one?

Shane accepted and let the model lit it up for her. Then they stayed a moment near the window, watching the rain fall, without a word. It was a beautiful scene, really, melancholic and a little violent, full of held energy and cold sadness. Shane could feel it. It would do an amazing picture. She told Sandra not to move and took her camera on the table. She wanted all of that in her work : the anger, the pain, the fatigue, the laziness. The light was perfect, raw and white. Sandra's long blond hair fell graciously on her shoulders and her hand, desperately holding her half-burnt cigarette, rest on the windowsill. She wasn't tensed or artificial, just a woman looking at the rain with fear and weariness, asking herself if she could come back home in time. The shadows painted tears on her pale face, underlining her tired smoky almost-closed eyes. It was touching, black and white and grey. It was what Shane wanted. Emotion and rawness. Abnegation.

She took half-a-dozen pictures before the rain stopped. Then she told Sandra she could leave. And see you soon. And thank you you were great. Yeah, really.

-INFA-

Shane McCuetchon was really tired. She hadn't slept much with this Papi story, and had came back to work the exact minute she had entered the studio. She just couldn't help it. She needed these cliks and colors and lights. She needed the weight of her camera in her hands. It was as if all suddenly became important. _She_ became important. She became strong, and useful, and she could see things other people didn't see. She sat in a leather chair and closed her eyes. She had made her way through the years, hadn't she? Now she was famous, Shane McCuetchon, photographer and sex-symbol. Now she was invited to all these parties she went to, sometimes when she needed a girl to fuck or a glass of champain. Now she knew celebrities. They came here to ask her to take a picture, only one so they could verify she really was what the others said she was. And Shane did. She took a picture, black and white like always, and they could see all they tried to hide, because she caught the precious moments where they were natural, real, true. She caught a gesture or a word, an expression, a millisecond of nostalgia or suffering. Never joy. Joy wasn't her thing. Joy was useless.

She grabbed her camera and held it against her chest.

-INFA-

She dreamt. She knew she dreamt but it was kind of like a mix between dream and old memories. Strange, black and white, like one of her pictures curiously moving and talking. A voice echoed in her mind. Angry.

-Damnit, McCuetchon, stop acting like this!

Her voice now. Low, calm, quiet.

-Calm down, Al...

But she didn't seem to hear.

-No, I'm not calming down! What's wrong with you?

_A lot of things, Al._ But she didn't say it.

-It's not a big deal...

It was friendship. Annoying and furious friendship, but still. Real friendship. Family.

-Yes it is!

She was so bored. She needed to sleep. Or a good fuck. Maybe with the new model... What was her name? Alyss. Yeah. Alyss.

-Don't you have another thing to do than fuck your employes?

She answered immediately. She couldn't help it. Felt so little and threatened.

-Actually, I don't.

Al was yelling about now.

-What about your work? You'll lose it, Shane. I now you think you don't deserve it, but someday you'll wake up and realize that if you don't do anything to actually deserve it, you'll get nothing but loneliness and self-satisfaction. Fight for it. Find some fuckin' thing to fight for.

And she left. Shane closed her eyes. She needed to sleep.

-INFA-

All the remembering thing had exhausted her, but she only slept two hours before waking up still tired. She grabbed a leather jacket and lit up a cigarette, then drove to the Planet where she had a meeting with her friends. Bette and Tina were already there, sitting next to the Dusty-Helena couple. Dusty was really a strange woman; none of the girls knew exactly who she really was, not even Helena. But she could be really nice, even though she didn't talk much. So... Noone cared. Sometimes the girls left, sometimes new came, so what? If you looked nearer, you could see that some of them were always there : Alice -talkative, too-much, exhuberant Alice-, Shane -do I need to introduce her?-, Bette&Tina -you can't talk about one without talking about the other-, Jenny -strange Jenny, her big hazel eyes always lost in her personal memories and shadows-. Yes, sometimes there were break-ups, sometimes they were divided, death-looking at each others from different tables, but eventually these five were always there, sipping their coffee while talking about sex, or cheating, or shaving, or babies, or faithfulness, or sextoys, or anything that was a subject to discuss.

She was greeted enthousiastically by Tina :

-Hi Shane! You look like a ghost, what the hell happened to you?

Shane growled.

-Hello yourself!

Then she answered :

-'Got a rough day.

Bette couldn't help but say :

-Too much fucking?

Shane usually found that type of remarks amusing, and most of the time she just didn't give a fuck. But today she cared. She didn't know why, but it annoyed her. _And_ it was true.

-Very funny.

Helena said in her loud English accent :

-Come on, girls! You're not going to fight this early, are you?

Dusty calmly answered :

-It's four in the afternoon, Helena.

Helena waved her hand in the air.

-Whatever!

Her way to talk had always made Shane laugh. Bette was about to say something when a nasal voice interrupted them :

-Hey girls! What's up?

There she was, Alice, the generous, kind-hearted, so curious Alice. She hugged Shane and the others briefly, sat and said with a sunny smile :

-So ... what were you talking about?

Shane answered first. She was too tired to fight about some idiot remark, anyway.

-Nothing.

Alice rolled her eyes.

-C'mon guys!

Bette quietly nodded :

-Nothing, really, Alice.

Alice sighed.

-If you want.

They talked about all and nothing during almost two hours, and then Bette&Tina said they needed to go, together. Habits stick. Jenny hadn't come because of a "writing crisis" -she was kind of a famous writer, and tried to write a new novel, something talking about unmistakable love, betrayal, rape and lesbianism, as always-, and Helena and Dusty finally left at about six and a half.

Shane was almost sleeping in her chair, staring blankely at a window, when Alice's voice woke her up.

-So ... who did you hook up last night?

-Uh... Not important.

How to tell her?

Ok, let's try the non-remembering thing.

-Nobody you know...

Alice rose a brow. She knew like every lesbian in town.

-Really?

Shane took a deep breath and pretented she was suddenly recalling something.

-Actually, maybe you know her ... wait ... can't remember her name. Hot, brown-haired, latino, a little bitter ... Papa, something like that.

Alice stared at her in amazement.

-Papi? You slept with Papi?

-INFA-

Now, Alice was interrogating her. And, let's tell you, she wasn't embarassed or mad. Like, _at all_. Shane seriously started to wonder if she wouldn't have prefered that.

-Once.

-What? Once? You and Papi? My Papi?

Shane nodded :

-Yeah.

-Wait, wait. You fucked? I mean, you really fucked? the blond-haired shrieked.

Shane re-nodded, shruging :

-Yeah, Alice.

-Oh my God! Alice yelled. Oh my God, oh my God. Un-be-lie-va-ble.

-Alice, shut up. It just happened once. It's over.

-Yeah, right, Alice drawled ironically.

She remained silent for a few seconds and finally said :

-Why didn't we hear the earthquake?

-INFA-

Alice was fun, Alice was nice, but damn, Alice was really exhausting. She had questionned her about her sex performances with Papi during almost two hours, and Shane had had to fight not to be obligated to tell her _everything_. Yes, Papi was fucking good, and no, she was not gonna tell her what she had done to her. No way. Anyway, they had laughed, and it was the important about the conversation. Shane now lay on the bed of her flat, suddenly feeling awfully _alone_. She had no party to go to, her friends were busy flirting and loving each other, and eventually, she was by herself, drinking and smoking, as always. She could have searched for a girl but she was tired, and the newspapers would talk about it. Again. As if she was the only player in the court. Please. She just wasn't trying to hide it. So, what was left for her to do? Maybe sleep, but she wasn't in the mood. And she had left her camera at the studio, and she had no model, and she just wanted to cry alone in her huge empty so-modern-art appartment, sit on the floor and cry all the tears she held for all the mistakes she'd made, all the people she'd hurt, and all of her own wounds, hidden behind her heartbreaker grin and rockstar clothes. But she couldn't do that. Because she never cried. That wasn't what she did. Who she was.

So she stood up, grabbed her half-empty vodka bottle, her keys, and even if she was weak at the knees, even if she had no will to go outside and pretend to smile, she did. Because she couldn't bear spending another night alone in the flat. It was too hard, and it forced her to remember, and remembering was, with love, the only thing she tried to avoid. She took her car and followed the road. Actually, she didn't exactly _follow the road_, but that was what she was trying to convince herself of. She followed the road and when she saw the enlightened club entrance, she smiled. Her usual smile. _Player, player. _An old song rushed in her mind.

-INFA-

She had no trouble entering the nightclub. The bodyguards were women -hey, this was a gay nightclub-, and they immediately let her in. She took the time to register the name of the club : _Nemesis. _How cute it was. Why did she feel like this name had been chosen just for them both? A grin was playing on her perfect lips when she stepped into the club. The whole room was filled with women, gorgeous or just fuckable, but she was searching for someone in particular. A couple of girls hit on her but she told them she was with a _friend_. They didn't seem to believe her -and they were right, it wasn't true-, but she didn't care. Fuck, where was she? She was thinking that she'd been a fool to think she could find her in this mess, when she saw a handsome latina smiling at a red-haired woman. As if sensing a look on her, the latina turned around and immediately noticed her. Papi smirked when the recognition hit her, and the minute after they were kissing and licking each other upstairs. Life was good.

-INFA-

Papi circled her fingers on Shane's clit, and, hearing her moaning, the head resting on her bare shoulder, she teasingly asked :

-What is it, Shaney?

She softly kissed her swollen lips and continued :

-What is it that you want?

Shane didn't reply. She wasn't gonna answer. Oh no. Papi's fingers caressed her harder and Shane groaned. Papi wildly grinned and looked her straight in the eyes.

-Say it.

Shane half-closed her eyelids and louldy growled :

-I'm ... not ... gonna ... answer ... your ... fucking ... question. No ... way.

Papi's grin grew wider.

-Oh, really?

This was _so_ exciting.

-... Yeah.

There was a loud beat in Papi's voice when she finally said :

-Too bad.

She inserted two fingers at once and Shane exhaled a harsh moan.

-INFA-

Waw. It was really a good idea to have come here.

Papi licked her belly and the soft touch of her tongue on Shane's hot abs made her shiver. They were so alike it was almost scary, like if they were mirroring each other in this strange and crazy dance. It was more a dance than a fuck, this once. They already knew each other's body, and even if they just had fucked once, it was like they were aware of exactly how and where to touch to make the other moan and groan and scream. They stepped into the bedroom without stopping kissing. It was so good it was almost painful. No more plans, or thoughts, or sadness, just pure pleasure, empty, white, blinding bliss exploding in their bodies.

They both came at the same time, hard.

And the night hadn't begun, yet.

**To Be Continued.**


End file.
